


Blackened Swordfish

by voleuse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-02
Updated: 2006-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-04 06:12:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five things Sam will never, ever tell Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackened Swordfish

**Author's Note:**

> Pre-series, no spoilers. Title adapted from Richard Frost's _For A Brother_.

  

  1. Sam learned how to load and fire a gun three weeks before Dean stopped teaching him how.

He was a lousy shot in the beginning, anyway. Pretending he couldn't remember what to do with the cartridge helped untwist the gnawing feeling in his stomach.

 

  2. When he was fourteen, Sam used to stay one hour late after classes. He would hang out on the football field before practice started. He didn't have any friends, but there were a couple of other guys who were there, too. And Sam didn't want to go home.

One of the guys, Seth, had a radio he'd bring along. He'd turn it to a classic rock station, and they'd all listen. A couple of the guys smoked, and one of them would bring his girlfriend, when he had one, and make out with her while the rest of them tried to look the other way.

Sam did his homework. They made fun of him, but only for a few minutes, then they left him alone. He could have gone somewhere else, but he liked being outside. He liked the freedom and he liked the music.

Sam could probably name every song Metallica has ever recorded, if he tried.

 

  3. Anita was Sam's first girlfriend. Or she might have been, anyway. She was sixteen, he was fifteen. He really liked her, but Dad decided to move again halfway through the first semester. Sam found out over the weekend, and he was already dropped out of classes by then.

After he lost yet another argument with Dad, Dean found him sulking in the backseat of the car. "Hey, Sammy." He cuffed Sam on the shoulder.

Sam glared at him, then slid sideways to give him room.

"I know it sucks," Dean said, "but I won't miss this town much, will you?"

Sam bit his lip and said, "No."

 

  4. After Dean helped Sam load his suitcases onto the bus, he handed him some cash. "Just in case, you know. You get hungry or something."

Sam looked at the crumpled bills and thought about protesting. "Thanks," he said instead, and shoved the money into his pocket. He didn't look past Dean's shoulder, because he knew there was nobody else coming to say goodbye.

"You'll be okay," Dean said. His gaze flickered over the bus, the tires, the passengers clomping up the steps. "You know how to take care of yourself."

"Yeah." Sam managed not to clench his jaw, and blinked.

They stood there for a while, and when the bus driver strode past, Dean pulled Sam into a hug.

"Dean--"

"Shut up." Dean squeezed him harder.

Sam smiled. "I'll call you when I get there, okay?"

"Okay." Dean let him go, then punched him on the arm. "And don't get too homesick."

"Don't worry," Sam said. "I won't miss you at all."

 

  5. It was Tuesday, two-thirty in the afternoon, and Sam's first day in first-year composition. The TA, who looked thoroughly panicked by the sea of freshmen, had told them to break into small groups and introduce themselves to each other. It was, the TA explained, supposed to foster community and trust.

This was the fourth time Sam had to do this exercise in the past three days.

He ended up in a group with Tammy, an aspiring drama major, and Chip, a buttoned-down economics and pre-med major.

"So," Sam said, his smile familiar and aching, "should we talk about our favorite animals or our dream vacations?"

Tammy rolled her eyes. "Monkeys. Australia for Christmas."

Chip shrugged.

"Okay," Sam said. "For the record, dogs and, uh. Tahiti, I guess."

"Figures," Tammy snorted.

They all looked at the clock. They had twelve minutes left. Chip flipped open his chemistry textbook with a severe wrist-flick.

Sam rolled his eyes, and Tammy offered him a stick of gum. "I thought ice-breakers were for sororities and junior high history classes," she confided. Her hair fell over her eyes, and she whisked it behind her ear.

"Apparently not," Sam told her, toying with his gum wrapper. The powder gritted against his fingertips. "Do you think we'll get quizzed on this?"

"I hope not," she laughed. "Otherwise Chester here will be in trouble."

"Chip," Chip corrected, his eyes still trained on his homework.

There was a quick moment of silence, then Tammy turned back to Sam. "So what's your story, Sam? What're you doing here, now, in this very spot?"

"That's...specific." Sam sorted through a number of answers, grinned to cover the silence. "This is a required class--"

"Boring," she interjected.

"You asked."

Tammy threw her hands up. "Favorite food?"

"Pizza, pepperoni and mushrooms."

"Favorite tree?"

"Seriously?"

"Home state?"

"Kansas. No Superman jokes," he added.

"Ha." Tammy poked him in the arm with her pencil. "Any brothers and sisters?"

Sam poked her back. "Only child."

  




End file.
